THE PLUTUS0

:ARIO. How hard il is, O Zeus and all ye Gods,
To be the slave of a demented master 1
For though the servant give the best advice,
Yet if his owner otherwise decide.
The servant needs must share the ill results.
For a man's body, such is fate, belongs
Not to himself, but to whoe'er has bought it.
So much for that. But now with Loxias,
Who from his golden tripod chants his high
Oracular strains, I've got a bone to pick.
A wise Physician-seer they call him, yet
He has sent ray master off so moody-mad,
That now he's following a poor blind old man,
Just the reverse of what; he ought to do.
For we who see should go before the blind,
But he goes after (and constrains me too)
One who won't answer even with a gr-r-r.
I won't keep silence, master, no I won't,
Unless you tell me why you're following Mm.
I'll plague you, Sir ; J know you won't chastise me
So long as I've this sacred chaplet on,&

appearance followed by Ohremyl'^^ an Mc,rly citizen^ and a, slave,
Carlo, wearing wreaths of bay.

b So long as he wore this symbol he was inviolate. Oe would
** smart the more," if this .slight protection W<TC removed.